


Kitsune

by DustyForgotten



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Demon Deals, Foxes, Gen, Kitsune, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Soul Selling, Twins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-03-11 09:17:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13521210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DustyForgotten/pseuds/DustyForgotten
Summary: Forest spirit foxes. Twins. Trickster children but Techie is too nice. He will lead you through the forest with all of his will-o-the-wisps. His brother though, he’ll lead you deeper in, while the forest shadows twist and snag and claw at your clothes, pulling pieces away until there is nothing left of you but a silent wanderer.





	Kitsune

**Author's Note:**

> Based on (and summary ripped from) a prompt by Tumblr user [Kylocatastrophe](https://dustyforgotten.tumblr.com/post/169386648547/kylocatastrophe-fox-twins-techie-and-hux-tho):
> 
> "Fox twins Techie and Hux tho like. Forest spirit foxes. Twins. Trickster children but Techie is too nice. He will lead you through the forest with all of his will-o-the-wisps. His brother though, he’ll lead you deeper in, while the forest shadows twist and snag and claw at your clothes, pulling pieces away until there is nothing left of you but a silent wanderer.
> 
> Fox twins. Magical forest fox twins. Kylo is their monster, the one most deceived by them. He protects their forest. He remembers nothing beyond his duty, the single-minded purpose Hux has given him.
> 
> Techie feels horribly about it, lets him lapse into lucidity, but even then, his name is lost to him. Kylo gave it to them, after all. The most beautiful things he’d ever seen, he’d given them his name, and in return, they named him Kylo and Ren. No matter how many times Techie calls him Ben, he doesn’t recognize it."

He hid himself behind a pine for protection, but chipped, overlong nails still dug into the bark. “Wh-who are you?” Techie stuttered. Even with the advantage of his own home— the lean-to where homework was done, a dozen pocket-wadded tissues scattering the forest floor— he was still scared.

Ben tried to step around the trunk, but the redhead only circled it to get away. “Ben. From fourth period?”

Techie peeked, red hair swinging in front of one star-sapphire eye. “… Why did you follow me?”

“You looked lonely.” Wandering by himself, off the bus and into the woods, ipod running wires to his ears and overstuffed accordion folder pressed to his chest.

Gaze skittered across the ground, like a rodent fleeing through the underbrush, squirrely thing ready to bound up the tree. “You should go…” he pleaded— warned, hiding in his hair and worrying his hands as he stepped back, clumsy gait somehow avoiding the roots. “M-my…” Frantically, his eyes searched the sky. “My brother’s coming.”

They’d been attending the same school in different grades for years, black sheep and geek, so distant, but similar. “You have a brother?”

Techie didn’t answer, only began to cry. He often did. “… He’s  _ coming _ , Ben.”

 

Techie was the one that left his lunch for the computer lab, headphones hidden under hoodie and hair. Never got paid for those school letterheads he made, and too scared to ask. Ben once caught him alone with Photoshop, not dodging the web filter like he knew he could, but painting. Eyes in the dark, and sharp teeth. Ben’s never been able to ask what he’s afraid of.

 

“It’s getting dark.”

Ben’s the one to startle, although Techie’s a walking fall hazard. Behind him, watching the whole exchange, stands Hux. Class president. AP honour roll. The sort of face he knows from school news. Features carved by contour, not starvation-hollow, like his brother, dress shoes that didn’t crunch the underbrush on his approach. Immaculate foil to Techie’s mess; it makes too much sense. “You’re siblings.”

Hux’s speech is debate-team sharp, while getting Techie to speak is quite like pulling teeth. “Identical twins, in fact.”

When Ben looks to Techie, he’s staring anywhere else. “How come I never noticed you have the same last name?”

Techie whines, and goes for his folder, schoolwork his only armour.

 

Ben had always assumed Huxley was an adequately pretentious white boy name for a dual-enrollment senior. He had never let a student’s mononym overlap with the copper plate on the drop-off bench, the family name debossed in the cornerstone of their very school building. And Techie— who had never said his name out loud, who typed his login too fast to read, was never called on, and never answered. Spoken of poorly by those only slightly less outcast. Techie, who had never really had a name.

 

“Can I have your name?” Hux asks, with a tip of his head, a crook at the corner of his mouth.

“Don’t—” Techie starts, but Ben’s already said it.

Something happens in his eyes— like the light playing off them, but there’s just not enough. “I take that as a yes.”

It shouldn’t reach this far into the woods, but wind blows. Avoids Hux altogether— like he’s not really there. “What should we call him, Armie?”

The pine thrashes, far in the canopy. “I’ll call him Ren,” Techie echoes, from up in the trees, “what will you call him, Armitage?”

This time, when he smiles, his canines show. “I’ll call him Kylo.”

The hum of life in the woods— rustle of leaves, trills of birds, cries of insects— all fall silent for one stark moment.

 

There’s power in names— he heard that once, in an anime or something. A thing without a name is barely real. It had never occurred to him before, that a name is something sacred. Something to be guarded, like Techie clutches his papers to his chest. A man without name isn’t a person. He’s just human.

 

“It’s getting dark,” Hux says again, without speaking.

“I hope you aren’t afraid of the dark…” murmurs Techie from somewhere unseen.

“No matter,” retorts his twin, “it will become you soon enough.”

  
_ “And you it,” _ whispers the pine.


End file.
